


Light in Your Bright Blue Eyes

by StarkWolf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Minor Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Past Relationship(s), Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkWolf/pseuds/StarkWolf
Summary: Vignettes. Moments. Epiphanies.A crowded collage of the most sublime yet complicated love story in Game of Thrones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Abrupt scribbles in the middle of the night. Apologies for disappointing in advance. I have no idea what I am going to write. You all just keep inspiring, honestly. Love you all. I am grieving for certain reasons, and seeking some solace in Hemingway's advice of "Sit in front of the typewriter and bleed" . 
> 
> P.S. English is not my first language. 
> 
> P.P.S. - Any reaction is welcomed.

Jaime rode through the gates of Winterfell with a resigned sense of doom that has been heaving at the back of his neck ever since his eyes met Cersei's across the throne room months ago as his sweet sister was crowned the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Tommen took with him the last shreds of Cersei's compassion and sanity, the last of whatever was left for him to love. But he couldn't stop loving as he couldn't stop breathing. Though in his mind, he knew. 

 

He knew right then that an end to this game was near. And he was going to be the first victim of it. It was bitter, the epiphany, like a taste of copper inside his mouth, but he let it engulf him. 

He couldn't stop fighting though. The warrior he was. But there is a certain resignation in his way of seeing and dealing with the world. He knew what the crown on the gold of her head meant - his life for her ambitions. 

He knew then that he was a dead man walking. His faith in the notion was reassured when Cersei nodded at the horrified beast they still call The Mountain. What a coward that little bitch of a beast.

And he knew he is a dead man walking now, as he enters the courtyard of Winterfell. 

He doesn't know how it will happen really. Maybe he would get his last wish fulfilled and go down sword in hand against the Army of the Dead. Maybe Brandon Stark will just pass the sentence and within the next hour he would be dead. And if vengeance is not a Stark's cup of tea ( he hopes by now enough tragedies had happened to them to rightfully make it so , but all Starks ARE endearing dolts ! ) , it just might be Daenerys Targaryen's. 

Fire and Blood. Red and Gold. What lucid poetry!

And if he manages, ( he wishes not ) to survive all of this , which is an extreme and absurd oddity, he knows what will get to him. 

His golden twin will tear the world apart to see him die. She will not falter a second time. She never has. She might even do it herself and label it as an act of her terrible and intense love for him. The final act of a forbidden romance that tore the kingdoms apart. 

No. Jaime will not give Cersei that satisfaction. Cersei will not make that final decision for him. 

He warily trotted his horse at the middle of the courtyard and suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned to his left and spotted an unimpressive , lumbering figure gently making her way towards him. 

And then his eyes met her blue ones. 

Ones full of questions and hope and hurt and the bluest of blue seas and suddenly he was drowning and alight and a bit more alive than the last minute, the last hour, the last day or the last year. 

Maybe there is always something left to live for.


	2. Gentle Mother, Font Of Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime meets The Ghost of Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This fic was long gone into hibernation until My JB shipping saturated my headspace and I could take it no more. I really needed to write. Now, I don't know what next to do. I can only wait for the feedback and then decide whether to continue the story because I clearly have no idea where I am going with it. Every bit of appreciation is appreciated right back, every criticism , noted. Please dont throw brickbats. English is not my first language. Also, guys, lemme know!!  
> Love. Always.

Jaime was huddled into the Great Hall with much fanfare, his previous moments between dismounting his horse and being shoved, pushed and kicked here almost a blur. He registered a few surprised gasps, condescending and hateful glances and angry touches while he was made to enter the bleak , cold chamber the Starks liked to call a “hall” . In the far end of the space, sat a woman, her hair a shade of breathtaking auburn , her face pale and placid, her eyes blue, cold and dead.

_Lady Catelyn?_

_Am I with fever? Is it messing with my god damn mind?_

There was a commotion behind him as the doors opened and closed thunderously and he could hear the Maid of Tarth’s rushed and ragged breath behind him as she falteringly said , ( pleaded to be more precise) “My Lady!!”

Sansa Stark , unsurprised, unconcerned, didn’t even move her fingernail as she fixated her gaze on him and said “Brienne , Leave Us?” in the softest and most sinister voice he has ever heard.

_Cersei?_

_Am I with fever? Is it messing with my god damn mind?_

Her tone brokered no argument. No question marks. Only a command meant to be followed.

Brienne stood there until Sansa Stark cared enough to move her gaze from him to her, and raised her brow slightly.

Brienne left. Leaving behind a gust of cold wind through the doors, enough to shake off the hallucinations his seemingly fevered mind projected.

Sansa Stark spoke next.

“Ser Roswell” _she said._

The burly looking guard who kicked him while trying to get him inside the hall made his way through towards him.

“Bring me his head” _she said._

Jaime Lannister could have felt panic, could have felt dread, could have felt sorrow, could have felt regret, instead he only felt wildly fascinated with this woman, an odd amalgamation of two apparitions from his past.

_What did the world do to you pretty princess Sansa?_

_Did my brother made a lion of you after all? What is this strange kinship I feel with this woman already?_

He kept returning her gaze, which was unfazed as “Ser Roswell” approached him from behind.

It was then that he closed his eyes.

_Father. Mother._

He could feel the moment stretching.

_Tommen. Myrcella. Joffrey._

_Bronn._

He could hear Roswell’s ego inflating, clearly proud to be the  chosen one,  to take the infamous Kingslayer’s head as he took posture behind him.

_Tyrion._

_Cersei._

_…….._

_Brienne._

_Bran Stark, of Winterfell, who liked climbing._

_The things I do for Love._

He sat there , anticipating the kiss of steel, wondering what exactly it would feel like when-

“Stop.” , Sansa Stark’s ever enigmatic , ever soft voice commanded.

Roswell let out a breath, annoyed at being interrupted midway being the hero in the song named Beheading of The Kingslayer.

“Why are you here? Ser Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer,  Lord Commander of The Kingsguard?”

It was that tone of hers, then, that really got to his nerves and the son of the mighty Tywin Lannister, maimed and killed somewhere in the riverlands, dead somewhere in the queen’s bed, burnt to ashes somewhere in Sept of Baelor came springing back to life, with bile and bitterness in his soul, ribs and voice.

“Why, my lady? To enjoy the warm Northern hospitality, What do you think?”

“I think that you have a sharp tongue for a dead man, Ser. I will not ask again.”

“Very well. I am here to join the North in its fight against the other.”

“Alone? Where are the Lannister men the Quee.. Cersei Lannister, promised?”

“She lied , My Lady. She had no intention to honor her word on the parley. “ .

For the first time since he was huddled into the hall, Sansa Lannister seemed contemplative and a bit uneasy.

He expected a flurry of questions next. About the Queen, her plans, her betrayal, their scandalous affair, his intentions, his _honor_.

By the time he began to wonder whether he would truly leave this chamber alive, Sansa Stark abruptly rose from her chair and walked toward him as he remained stationed on the floor. She looked down at him , pointedly, and commanded her guards to leave him. Jaime rose, his muscles aching from the long kneel, wondering how long he was actually kneeling until she spoke.

“Kingslayer, I refuse to bore myself with lies or half truths. You are to be quartered here till The King In The North returns with the Targaryen Queen to decide your fate. Meanwhile, if you try to do anything remotely clever, you will face consequences. Is that understood?”

_So quick to judge . You ARE Ned Stark’s daughter after all. And here I was doubting whether Cersei and I lost a sister somewhere._

“Yes, Lady Stark”.

“Good. Ser Roswell? With me Please .” she said and in one fine motion walked away and left the room , her gown making a swishing sound against the floor.

Jaime stood there for how much time he did not know till the wariness of the whole ordeal stabbed him like a knife in his gut. And his world suddenly dark.

He dreamed of Aerys and Cersei, abed making love as he stood guard outside the door. He dreamt of the bear tearing Brienne apart in two, scabs of muscle and blood on the ground. He dreamt that is stump was bleeding and the Bloody Mummers dipped it in boiling water. He dreamt of Bran Stark, grown up and alive and whole, whole, whole.

He forced his eyes open and tried to figure out where he was. He couldn’t. His eyes adjusted to the dim light of the chamber and as he tried to move his ghost hand his hand collided with a mop of what felt like straw.

The next he remembered he could see Brienne’s guileless, blue eyes staring down at him with worry, fear and concern as she sighed , “Jaime?”

_Sapphires._

And the world went dark again.


	3. In The Eyes of Gods and Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne does some soul searching. Or soul consoling, to be precise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing it cause #nochill.

Brienne was cleaning Oathkeeper rigorously, her heart in her mouth, her heartbeat thudding against her chest, her ugly face uglier in the setting winter sun, her vision blurry. 

_"Not so hard, you will rub your skin off."_

It was a gloomy day. Snowflakes falling on the ground, disappearing into other snowflakes, melting and mending and reforming , birth and death, birth in death.  And the Heart Tree, ever radiant with its splash of red and ever mournful in this bleak, brazen, harsh landscape, the only witness to Brienne's endless agony. 

_Let him live._

Were the Gods so cruel as to bring him to her only to die? 

What sin has she wrought in her life to deserve such punishment?

 _"These are foreign Gods ,Brienne"_ her mind spoke to her in Jaime's voice. 

 _"They don't care for a woman's heart when the call for the blood of their vengeance comes. "_  

But, Ser Jaime is _innocent_

" _Hush Brienne. The North Remembers. It remembers the man who traded his life for his honor, it remembers the valiant king who died for love, it remembers winter's bride and the wolfmother, whose throat was slit from end to end at a wedding. You might forget Brienne, but The North Remembers .  And so does its daughters. "_

We _swore_ a solemn vow

"Lady Brienne? "

Brienne looked up to see Sansa Stark pinning her down with her gaze. She didn't hold the gaze and got back to her frantic sword cleaning, refusing to give anyone the pleasure to look through her distress. 

Sansa Stark managed to look through it nonetheless. 

"I ordered Ser Rosewell to bring me his head."

Brienne froze. 

"I had a friend once,  Brienne. Jeyne Pool, her name was. And she was the sister I wanted. Not Arya' . 

_I ordered Ser Rosewell to bring me his head._

" We used to share clothes, prayers, food, bruises, songs and stories. Stories of knights who unfailingly came to the maiden's rescue, knights who had hearts underneath their armour and honor in their bloody veins.  Then we went to Kings Landing and an unfortunate turn of events found Jeyne dead in a back alley there, half her head severed from her body, half clutching on to her dainty neck, our fairytales bleeding out of her, slowly, steadily, like her lifeblood. "

Brienne flinched.

 

It was all too much. 

_I ordered Ser Rosewell to bring me his head._

Sansa spoke again, breaking the almost dangerous silence now. "But guess what Brienne? It took me  infinite turns of the moon but I did manage to find a friend again. A knight again. A true knight, with a heart beneath their armour. And try as I might, I cannot break it with my own hands."

At this declaration, Brienne finally looked ,amazed, at the woman speaking to her.

" I will not harm him, or let anybody else do the same while he is under my roof, for _you._ But I cannot speak for the King In The North or the Targaryen Queen he brings with himself. ", she said and left as promptly and daintily as she came. 

_Like a Queen._

 

Brienne let out a breath she did not know she was holding. And it came with a gasp and a broken and raw, shaky sob. 

And then, she broke down in front of the heart tree, clutching its root and wailing and howling.

She did not know for how long she cried, cause the tears on her cheeks, frozen and cold against her skin, only gave way to new , warm ones.

Her reverie only broke when Pod came running to her to the Godswood, his boots making a crackling sound over the now hard and frozen snow, and informed her that Jaime has lost consciousness and was running a fever. 

"Take me to him" , was all she could say.

It was all she wanted, anyway. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Up : The Meeting. I am trying to post it tomorrow only. But really such less enthusiasm about this story is making me reconsider honestly. I would love a beta as is very evident. Please, my sweet summer children, let me know if I should continue this at all.
> 
> Much, much , love.


	4. Gold Be Their Crowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne doing the Jaime and Brienne thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Back again !! Let's see how this one turns out. Also I need a BETA.

Jaime tried to shift in his sleep, causing his fur to slip a bit from his body and sudden gust of cold stabbing him in his gut with an icy sting, forcing him to jolt awake.

_Bloody North of the Bloody Starks!!_

His head spun, but not before registering a jerk in his vision as Brienne of Tarth swam into it. 

_"Jaime?"_

Jaime tried to reply but found his throat was way too dry and raw to speak, ending his poor attempt at conversation up in a coughing bout, but he refused to acknowledge it as failure as the thick wench grasped it as a clue to quickly take a glass of water and placed it on his mouth. He drank greedily from it, though never quite removing ( or managing to remove ) his gaze from the wench. Brienne, however, was single minded about the task at her hand, concern and care pouring from every inch of her being as she steadily held the glass to his mouth, not bothered by his gaze. 

"Jaime? How are you feeling?" she asked as she finally removed the glass from his mouth, conceding that he had enough to drink. 

"Dying until you decided to come and gallantly save me by bestowing upon me the liquor of life." he managed to croak out. 

Brienne grimaced. Her jaw set in a thin line. Her lips chapped. Disapproval writ upon her face at a not so satisfactory answer. It was this expression that Jaime  was most used to when found in conversation with Brienne. 

_It warmed his insides, a bit, to find a semblance of familiarity in this foreign land._

The conversation stopped abruptly. So , Jaime , like always, had to resume . 

"Ahh!! No matter wench. Don't look so disappointed. I was only jesting as you well know. I am feeling as well as one could feel in this freezing hell the Starks call home. No wonder the dead are rising. The chill is justification enough to make a man rise back from death and seek vengeance from the living." 

"Ser Jaime, you would do good to maintain your tongue while at Winterfell. From what I heard, you have had a close tryst with death merely a couple of days ago."  Brienne chided. 

Jaime's mind rushed back, as if on cue, to the wordless nod of Cersei nodding her head in assent, and the sound of  Mountain unsheathing his sword. He gulped. 

_Sweet Sister. I still don't believe you._

Brienne however, seemed to take in his change in countenance with a bit of unguarded surprise and hesitation as she fumbled to continue.. " I.. I didn't want to ss..ssound threatening , Ser.., it is just that.. "

"Ahh!! My lady, it is heartening to see that despite all the sorrows and crisis befalling the world and The North off late, you haven't become a bit worldly, given that you think a stupid , stubborn cow dressed in a chainmail could make feel threatened by her blunt statements . " , Jaime cut her short, the bitterness of the last encounter with his sister, his lover, chafing his throat and voice. 

Brienne visibly flinched. And before he could take his words back and convince her to stay, she wordlessly left. 

 _Stupid, crippled, fool._  

The next morning, Jaime woke up with a vow to stand up on his legs, and urged them to take him to Brienne. 

The burly northern guard who has been given the honour of having his head when he came here , posted outside his chambers along with a dirty looking, dirty smelling wildling, seemed to vow to join him on his endeavor, following each of his steps.

He did not engage them in petty exchanges or mindless chatter, he just let them. 

It was evident he was yet to recover from his journey and his fever, as his legs started to give out after exactly six steps from his chamber, as he clutched the rails overlooking the courtyard to steady himself. He could see the whole of Winterfell below, lords, lordlings, commoners, wildlings, gathered in a crowd, albeit an organised one,  could spot the red of Sansa Stark's hair standing out, but his eyes caught the glimmer of Oathkeeper faster than anyone and the straw mop on blonde on its owners head. 

It was purely co incidental that Brienne chose to look up at the opportune moment, and he braced himself to see disgust and hate and anger in those wild blue pools, but all he could see was concern and a flicker of fear. 

 _She is afraid. For Me. What..Who._.

A Guard at the barracks announced at the top of his voice 

"Open the gates for the King in The North and his party, _NOW_!!" 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is such an ass. But he is an endearing and stupidly handsome ass.


	5. And Golden Their Shrouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime faces an improved version of the last trial. Brienne takes decisions. Tyrion has had enough.

Brienne felt exhaustion and wariness in every bone of her body as the Great Hall buzzed with murmurs of the Northern lords, the wildlings, the Dothraki, the Unsullied and everyone in between. She would have been amused at such a mix, had the sense of impending doom not overwhelmed her completely. She glanced around nervously, only to find herself exchanging a glance with Sansa, who looked at her with pity and worry alike. Brienne's hand involuntarily went to the pommel of Oathkeeper as she gulped.

 

The doors flung open as the silver haired foreign queen strode into the hall, her head held high, with Jon Snow at her side, his expression- thunderous. The dwar.. Tyrion, Jaime's brother swaddled in small steps behind them, his expression unreadable as he concentrated on keeping up with the party. A beautiful brunette woman, probably her own age and a bald Unsullied soldier followed him. They marched up to the High Table and took their positions. Jon Snow, pulled out the chair of his old seat for Daenerys Targaryen to sit upon, exchanging glances while she took the seat. Lord Tyrion seated himself at her right, while his grace took the seat to her left beside Sansa.

 

"Jon, listen to me", Sansa pleaded in a hushed tone, only to be silenced by a motion of his hand.

The queen, spoke " My lords, my ladies if I can have a moment of silence. " .

And silence there was, a threatening one, a piercing one.

"With all due respect to everyone present here today, I would like to take a moment to speak for myself. I understand that there is much.. much animosity here in regard to my presence. I understand your refusal to bend your knee to a foreign queen when the lands in the North have been time and again ravaged by southern monarchs and their petty politics. I understand every bit of your apprehension in pledging your support to me when you have chosen one as brave and solemn as Jon Snow as your leader, I understand every bit of it." 

She paused to scan her eyes around the room. 

"But my Lords, today, we are not here to discuss this. Today we are here to judge the man, the Kingsguard,  who is guilty of putting a sword through a king, my.. my Father's back, while he was unarmed. Today we are here to judge the man who belongs to the family of turncoats, the son of the man who orchestrated the abhorrent Red Wedding and killed your true King, the brother, and well, allegedly lover of the southern queen who promised us her armies and saw it deem to break her word as soon as our ship sailed from the shore of Kings Landing. " , she pointedly look at her left, at Lord Tyrion. 

Brienne gasped for air, her throat feeling constricted. 

"My Lords, it is a long discussion for today, about why you should place your trust on me. I wish to show you why on the battlefield, I wish to show you why when the war against the dead is won, I will show you why when I have the crown on my head and the throne at my back. Today, we must be together to seal the fate of the man whose family has wronged the North repeatedly, who family brought upon the death of your liege lord, Ned Stark, your liege lady, Catelyn Stark, and your king Robb Stark.  Are you with me on this?" 

 

The whole of The Great Hall seems to break out in approval, while the floor beneath Brienne's feet shifted. 

In a while, in a blur, Jaime was huddled through the door by Ser Rosewell and Domeric. 

The buzz in the Great Hall rose to a deafening level, while Jaime struggled to maintain his composure, or well flamboyance. His eyes met Brienne as he gave her an unfathomable look and then his eyes moved to Daenerys. 

_Jaime, please, don't be clever, don't be yourself._

"You have hair like your father Your Grace, however, I hope that is where the similarity ends" , he chuckled. 

Lord Tyrion hissed and muttered a curse under his breath. 

Daenerys only raised her brows, a hint of smile tugging at her lips. 

"Kingslayer, Oathbreaker, I know your knack for adventure. I knew it when I saw you dashing across a field of fire , charging towards me and Drogon. I knew it when I was old enough to learn that you killed my father, your King, the one you were sworn to protect. Tell you what, even I am feeling a sense of adventure today, why don't I have your head here today, on this very spot, and see what it does to my adrenaline rush?" she gritted out the last words deliberately slowly. 

Jaime only smirked. "I don't feel up for dying today, but if a pretty maiden insists, I don't find it within myself to refuse." 

Jon Snow, ominously silent throughout the ordeal, scraped his chair along the ground and rose as he spat venom in his signature thunderous voice ." Kingslayer, you will address the Queen with respect and honour." .  Daenerys held his wrist to interrupt him, and the gesture was all too familiar to be comfortable. 

"My my, sensitive about pretty maidens, are we?" , Jaime addressed his question,  genuinely amused,  this time, at Tyrion. 

It was all too enough. Enough to make Jon Snow lunge at Jaime, enough for Daenerys to give her order to the Unsullied leader to "Bring Jaime to Drogon" while struggling to hold and stop Jon Snow, enough for Tyrion to address Daenerys by her name in a hall of roaring crowd, and enough for Brienne to find her voice and yell "NO" , at the top of her voice. 

Everyone stopped midway in their actions, as Brienne scurried towards Jaime , made to kneel at the centre of the Great Hall. 

"Your Grace, Your Grace, My Lady, " , her voice shook , shrill, "You MUST listen. You must listen to what he has to say. Or else, you must give him a chance for a trial by combat. I will be his Champion" .

"And I would REFUSE" , Jaime almost screamed, his expression murderous as he looked at her. 

At first, anyone was too stunned to speak, but only for a moment, as Daenerys gathered her composure and raised her voice " And WHO ARE YOU? "

"I..I am Brienne of Tarth, daughter of Selwyn Tarth, the evenstar of Tarth" , her voice shook, still too shrill. Daenerys narrowed her eyes at Brienne. 

"I met Ser Jaime, I met him when he was a prisoner of Lord Stark following the Battle of the Whispering Woods. I was sworn to Lady Catelyn Stark. She charged me with the responsibility to escort him safely to King's Landing in exchange of her daughters, who were the Crown's prisoner at that moment. During the journey, he saved my honor and lost his sword hand in the process, he jumped into a bear pit unarmed, to save my life when he had no reason to. And it is there that he told me his true reasons to kill the King. It was perhaps his most honorable act to date, and I can vouch Your Grace, that I, .. Had I been in his position, I would have done the same."

Behind her Jaime winced, and she saw a flicker of uncertainity writ across Daenerys's features.

"And when, when we reached Kings Landing, and the Purple Wedding happen and Sansa could not be found, he gave me his sword and entrusted me with the responsibility to see Sansa Stark safe, in order to keep his vow to Catelyn Stark, while his sister and the whole crown was clamouring for her head. He came here, alone, all the way up, knowing that his death was in order after his sister decided to betray you, to join us in the fight for death, I know his honor Your Grace, I have seen it. And I choose to fight for it, whether or not you let me." 

Jaime hissed under his breath " Brienne, you.." 

Daenerys seemed to take it all in as she spoke, " Greyworm, take him to Drogon" . 

"ENOUGH." - Lord Tyrion banged his fist against the High Table as she stood up, his seat upturned in the process and fell with a loud clang against the stone floor. 

"No, No Greyworm. You will not take him to Drogon. And Your Grace, as much as you like the sweet smell of charred bones and ashes, you will NOT burn my brother. If you have decided that you would rather be the Queen who burns people she disagrees with,  without hearing their story, who will win over their people with fear instead of valour and love, who will choose cruelty over compassion,  then Your Grace, I solemnly refuse to be your Hand or support you. We already have the same person sitting on the Iron Throne as it is." , he spat and unclasped his badge of The Hand and threw it across the table. 

Silence. Again. 

"Lord Snow, do you think we have ENOUGH men , to burn a fighter and a commander like Jaime Lannister?" Tyrion continued, thunder in his face, laced in his voice. 

Sansa Stark stood up next, softly, gracefully, calm in the eye of a storm. 

"I agree with my lord. " she spoke, as she glanced over Tyrion. 

"I am the Lady of Winterfell. And I have not yet bent my knees to any Queen. I refuse to carry out orders she gives under my roof. This man is under my protection, and we Northerners do not inflict harm upon guests without hearing their side of stories." , she spoke definitively, leaving no room for arguments, while challenging Jon with her expressions. 

Daenerys Targaryen, meanwhile, has not looked away from Tyrion, their gazes locking, violet and green engaged, transfixed. 

"Ser Jaime Lannister" she spat softly, carefully not looking away From Tyrion, never looking away from Tyrion, "Will you say your story?"

"I would, albeit, in private." 

"You are not in a position to demand any such demands. Speak. NOW." 

" Your father, was  fond of fires, ( like you, he didn't say, but was heard all the same ) . Towards the end, he began to lose his sanity more frequently, as he began burning more and more people everyday. He cooked Rickard Stark and Brandon Stark when they came asking him for Lyanna Stark, allegedly abducted by Rhaegar . ( he looked at Jon and Sansa ) , later in his chambers he used to rape your Mother while we stood guard outside the door, and listened. Then the war took place, Robert  won. My father sacked Kings Landing, under the pretense of defending the throne. Varys and I tried to dissuade him. He didn't listen, but when the city fell, he ordered me to bring his head. And then.." , he took a long breath.

"Then he unravlled his secret in front of me. He has pyromancers set the city with tracts of wildfire. He wished to.. wished to burn them all. So that there was no kingdom left to rule after he lost. I found the pyromancers first, when he gave his order to set the city on fire, and killed them. Then I found him in the throne room, as we tried to flee, I shoved a sword through his back. Later, I sat on the throne to see who comes to claim it first, as his lifeblood seeped out of him at the foot of the throne he so loved. That is how Ned Stark found me." , he finished. 

 _Silence. Piercing. Deafening. Brutal. Silence._  

Jaime looked at her then, and she lost her heart to him, _once again_ , at that moment. 

Daenerys Targaryen, brought her out of her reverie. 

 

"Ser Jaime.. Ser Jaime... I am ashamed of my earlier behaviour. I know, you speak truth, and if it is any consolation, all I can say in my defense in this trial is that I am not my father. I would be deeply obliged, if, even after such humiliation, you decide to join us in our fight against the Dead. " with that she moved to leave the Hall, but not before bending to pick up the Hand of The Queen badge Lord Tyrion has thrown onto the table earlier. Jon Snow tried to follow her but she put a hand on his arm and whispered "Stay" . 

She again looked at Tyrion, with tears pooling in her eyes, and strode out of the hall. 

And for the first time in her life, it would seem that Jaime Lannister was stunned into silence. 

Until, until, Lord Tyrion sauntered over to him and lunged to envelope him into a bone crushing hug, while his feet dangled mid air. 

Brienne felt like breaking down. 


	6. Three Eyes and Three Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have around one more chapter to go to finish the pending interactions Jaime is likely to have before unleashing the romantic track. Long Sabbatical.

"Olenna Tyrell killed Joffrey" , he whispered as soon as Tyrion deemed it fit to let go off him. He stared at him for a while , his mismatched eyes darkening. Took time to compose himself as he said, " I have to go talk to the Queen" . 

Jaime could only nod his affirmation. He felt too full, too overwhelmed, too exhausted to do anything else. 

Most of the Great Hall was empty by then. Only Sansa Stark and Brienne remained.

The doors flung open and he could feel someone entering the Hall with a burst of agitated energy.

"Jon?? Are you here??" 

Jaime thought he would never cease seeing ghosts here in Winterfell. 

_Lyanna Stark._

Arya Stark stopped short at the sight of him. 

"What hell has broken through here while I was gone?" 

"Arya, language" .

"Sansa, details, please. What is HE doing here?" .

"Ser Jaime has come to aid us in our fight against the dead. " 

"Really?. Are we holding banquets for Cersei next ??" She turned to Jaime. " What?? Are you not fucking your sister anymore ?? Trouble in paradise?? Why on earth have  you come here?? " 

"ARYA" Sansa spoke in her trademark thunderous voice.

"No. It is not feasible to fuck my sister with my ass freezing up here in the North while she rests hers against the Iron Throne. As long as you can see my cock is here with my body and her cunt is nowhere around, it is safe to say I am not fucking her anymore.  As far as why I am here, I think you are well aware of the oath I swore to your Mother with Lady Brienne. I am here to fulfill my oath while I fight against the Army of The Dead. Have my word for what I say or shove that fancy sword through my throat. It is already raw from speaking too much. I am not indulging in these games anymore, little girl." 

Arya looked daggers at him and mover her gaze slightly towards Lady Brienne , who on the other hand seemed to hold magnetic power over the girl. 

_My face when I exchanged glances with Ser Arthur Dayne._

"You are not on my list. I would spare you for now. For.. For Lady Brienne. She speaks of you in high regard. And she is the only one who has bested me in the sparring arena. Her words count. " 

_Wench. I am tired of being the maiden you seem to rescue. Well. Not quite..._

_And no one could best this little girl?? What has the North come to??_

"Where is Jon?" she turned to Sansa, refusing to further the conversation. 

A maid servant entered the arena while Jaime kind of struggled to get up. Brienne moved forward to help him. A reassuring hand on his arm. Warm.

_Fuck old age. Fuck my crippling. Fuck this ordeal._

 

The maid servant hurriedly scurried over to Sansa to speak something in her ear. Sansa's eyes widened a bit in shock and Jaime could see her momentary distress as she composed herself and cleared her throat. 

"Ser Jaime, The Lord of Winterfell wants to see you in the Godswood." , Sansa looked from him to Brienne, "alone" , she finished. 

 _Lord of Winterfell? Who? Jon Snow, the dolt was the King.. Until.. NO! ,_ his mind screamed. 

Two trials, three close shaves with death, and this was one moment, Jaime was really, truly panicked. 

_Even bloody Sansa Stark could see this was too much for a day, it was clear in her Tully eyes._

_Brienne on the other hand was distressed at his panic. She doesn't know, does she? Seven Hells ._

The maid stood waiting, clearly impatient having to deal with the mood swings of the Kingslayer when her job clearly entailed her to bring him to Brandon Stark as soon as possible. Jaime nodded towards her. 

_Let this be over, Today._

He gave Brienne a reassuring squeeze on her arm, while her blue eyes were transfixed on him, trying to figure it out. He followed the maid , who had already started their sojourn, in what he thought to be his most confident Lord Commander stride . No matter that the ground was shaking and shattering beneath his feet as he took each step forward. 

                                                                                  -------------------------------------------------

The big tree with the crimson tears etched in its face was as grotesque as the Northern Chill. The leaves blew in the wind orchestrating a symphony of doom, Jaime observed from far. Beneath The Godswood, sat a figure of a boy, not more than 17, in a thrice damned _wheelchair_.

"Ser Jaime Lannister" , the boy spoke, without turning, as he dragged his feet to the spot. 

The maid left them in a hurry. 

"Brandon Stark, I thought I will never see you again. Yet here you are. Well met." , fear and panic and knots in his stomach loosened his tongue, as it did always. 

The boy turned his way, and Jaime braced himself for the ground to swallow him. He convinced whatever courage and brevity was left of his soul to look into the boy's eye. And felt the shame of it engulf him. 

All he saw was a set of expressionless eyes, the only other thing there being wisdom beyond his age. 

_What have I done to this boy? He is not even disgusted at the sight of me._

"You will never see him again." , Brandon Stark spoke calmly. 

Jaime grew impatient at his disquiet. This boy should have someone had his head by now, Yet here he was , sitting in his damned wheelchair and watching the weather and stating puzzling things with an unnatural calm. It riled him up. He wanted a fight

"Ser Jaime, The Others have breached The Wall. Tens and Thousands of them. They are marching South. And they have an ice dragon with them. You have a part to play here, in the Great War,  like you had in the bear pits of Harrenhal" .

Jaime felt his breath knock out of his lungs. He stood there frozen. 

"How do you know that? How" 

Brandon looked at him and smiled. And then he turned back towards the Tree with Red tears. The eyes seemed alive to Jaime. He blinked in confusion.

"YOU. made me know. When you pushed Brandon Stark from the tower. You unleashed my destiny on me. I am the Three Eyed Raven Now. I can see things. I saw why you did what you did to Aerys, I saw what you did with the men who tried to rape Tysha in the roads of Lannisport. I saw what you did when the Cersei Lannister threatened to kill you. I saw what you left at Harrenhal." 

jaime could feel his heart thudding out of his chest. He tried to gasp for air. He could not feel any. 

His throat felt constricted as he spoke , "Why .. Are.. You... Telling..me.. this? Now?" . 

"Because Ser, you have a duty even if you dont have the white cloak around your back. The day Ser Arthur Dayne knighted you, you knew you had a destiny to fulfill. Like me.  The Kingsguard protects its King. Protect your true King in this fight. " 

"My true king died in the battle of Trident years ago" , the words were out of his mouth before he could help it, so overwhelmed he was with this scenario. 

Bran Stark looked at him again, and smiled while he said " We will find out soon enough" , and turned definitively towards The Godswood, bringing the abrupt conversation to even a more abrupt end. 

Jaime could feel the fever burning his temple, could feel the tears clouding his eyes. He spoke in a voice so soft, even he did not recognise himself.

"Am.I.. Am I forgiven, Lord Stark?" 

"No. The one who could forgive you died when you flung him out of that tower." 

 


	7. Winter in My Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne Jaime and their special brand of angst and tension.

Brienne finds him in her room. _Her room_. He is sitting on a corner of her bed in the corner, the last of the sun rays flitting though his golden hair, creating a halo of godliness around him. There is _always_ a halo of godliness around Jaime Lannister. Coming closer though, she could see and sense the air around him.  Air as thick as the bath in Harrenhal. Jaime sat on her bed, huddled in the corner, his arms folded about his stature, as he stared forlornly to Winterfell's courtyard. He instantly reminded her of a maimed lion in the Riverlands, lost under a clear night sky.

This was that Jaime.  Doomed, Defeated and _Dying_.

Without a thought, before a sliver of doubt and ache could settle in her chest, she strode towards him and lifted his quivering chin with her hand.

Jaime jumped at the sudden contact, while emerald green found her eyes. She inhaled sharply.

_I love you and it hurts more than a thousand swords shoved through my chest._

She could only swat her hand away awkwardly in reflex, wincing at the intensity of her own feelings.

Jaime looked away.

 _As he always does_.

The gravel in his voice as he spoke next brought her out of her own musings.

"He saw us.. He saw.. Cersei and I , Brienne.. He.. He would have..told Robert. He would have kill her. He would have killed our children. Brienne.. It was not about me. I had no option...I ... I pushed him , pushed a 10 year old child, out of that tower. And I, I meant him to die."

He covered his eyes with his palms now.

Brienne tried to make sense of his rumbling. And she did. The truth hitting her hard and fast. She jolted away from him in horror.

"Jaime!!"

In response he could only sink down further in her bed, his hurt and grief as blinding as the sun.

Of all the imperceptible emotions in the world that Brienne felt for Jaime, the almost volatile urge of comforting him was the most puzzling to her. Not that Jaime cared about being comforted by a ugly, mannish cow when all his bed has always been warm and shining with the Light of The West.

"Olenna Tyrell said she would be the end of me.”, he mused, the gravel in his voice only getting thicker.

"She could not be the end of me. She was the end of me the moment I was born clutching onto her leg into this world. She was the end of me when I tasted summer in her mouth for the first time. She was the end of me when our eyes met at the throne room at her coronation, imaginary corpses of our children strew across the distance between us. She was already my end, far before she permitted the Mountain to bring her my head."

Brienne’s insides burnt instantly at the thought of a world without Jaime.

They both grieved in silence then. There. Him, for the sister lover he loved and lost. Her for watching him doing so.

“Did he forgive you? Lord Brandon?”, she said desperate to ignore Cersei’s ghost which stood at the bed by then, mocking her with a derisive yet enchanting smile of her.

 _“But you love him”,_ she mouthed.

“No”.

“Then what did he bid you to do?”

“Lord Brandon asked me to fight” , he raged for a moment,  and then recoiled in his state of despair.

The grief she was wearing under her bones, and Cersei’s arrogant smirk gave her a courage she never had then. She crossed the distance between her and Jaime and put her hand in his golden hair, as surprised at herself as Jaime, at this sudden bold move from her.

“Then fight you will. You will fight to prove you are more than a man who kills his king in a fit of fancy, you will fight to prove you are more than the sword hand you lost, to prove you are more than an oathbreaker, to prove you are not..not _her ,_ to prove no other person can be the end of you. You will fight to right the wrongs you have done Ser Jaime. You will fight for your own salvation. Just, your own.” , she said with a strength unbeknownst to her voice.

Jaime looked at her then, she could feel, truly looked at her as something in his gaze shifted. The clouds shifted a bit to let some fire in his feral, emerald eyes.

He gulped.

Brienne moved her hand, afraid, of herself, for once, and what might she say next.

Jaime cleared his throat audibly.

He stood up. Face to face, toe to toe with Brienne.

She froze in time, afraid to let go of the moment, afraid to be in it.

He whispered in hushed tones, “Do you know where Widow’s Wail is?”

Brienne nodded in affirmation.

He moved away.

“Good. Will you bring it to me post supper? I have to go see Tyrion. “ , he began to leave.

“Why?? What do you plan to do with a sword? You know Jaime you are walking on thin ice here. The Starks have specifically arranged to keep a close watch on you. And now with Lord Brandon..  


“Shh.. Relax wench, I just want to ask a maid I like for a dance, with my sword in my hand. “ he winked and left leaving her world upside down.

Brienne sighed and willed her gaze to move from the doorframe through which he just left.

Cersei’s ghost wasn’t there anymore.

She left with him, like _always._

 

 


End file.
